Homecoming
by Morbidly Obscure
Summary: Elizabeth never got over the "death" of her beloved, Ciel Phantomhive. Years after his supposed passing, the young Earl returns with final gift for his widowed fiancee. Demon!Ciel/Lizzie.


**Ah, this is a little oneshot that's been on my mind for a while. I've never written Ciel/Lizzie before, and this was a bit rough because when I right Elizabeth, I like to write her as the sweet, bubbly, secretly badass girl that we know and (possibly) love. Obviously, that doesn't apply here. Regardless, I hope you all enjoy and review :-)**

**Disclaimer: I spent three paychecks on a figurine of Sebastian in his tutor outfit; that's the extent to which I own Kuroshitsuji.**

**OoO**

Lady Elizabeth Cordelia Ethel Midford was in mourning, and had been for several years. She'd passed the sufficient period ages ago, but that didn't matter; Elizabeth could mourn for as long as she damn well pleased. And anyway, what was the point of going to balls and functions, of wearing pretty dresses and trinkets, of being charming and sweet and cheerful, if Ciel was dead? Hadn't she done all that for his benefit in the first place?

The tutors came and went from Elizabeth's luxurious chamber, where she lived like a prisoner in a cell. She insisted that there was no need for her fencing lessons anymore, as she had no partner to protect nor any special role to fill. Of course, finding another boy to wed was out of the question. Mother and Edward were obliged to argue with Elizabeth on that assertion, but they gave up far too quickly; her brother was secretly relieved that his baby sister would not be handed off to some unknown boy, and her mother seemed to understand in her odd, stoic way.

And so there was nothing, because Ciel had been Elizabeth's everything. They had been joined since the cradle; spent hours playing together and very nearly shared one heart. Ciel was away for a while, and when he came back he was different, but Elizabeth had not let that shake her; she'd devoted years to making him smile again, make him laugh and play like the boy she remembered. And even when he ignored her, pushed her away, and said cold things, Elizabeth loved him. He'd loved her too—she'd known that, even if he hadn't.

And then he was gone.

On the summer of his thirteenth year, Earl Ciel Phantomhive had died under mysterious circumstances. Now, exactly three years after Elizabeth had received the black-sealed letter announcing her fiance, cousin, and best friend's death, the blonde girl sat upon her velvet-upholstered window seat, a book in her paler-than-ever hands.

Ciel had always loved to read, and after he'd died, Elizabeth had taken a special interest in books. Ciel's kind of books: murder, mystery, and the macabre. Today's selection was Poe, one of Ciel's old favorites. On the anniversary of her beloved's death, Lizzie read and re-read Annabel Lee with an ache in her withered heart.

"What a sight."

Elizabeth jumped nearly a mile; the book tumbled out of her fingers and through the open window, into the bracing night air. Typically, Elizabeth was not an easy girl to sneak up on, but obviously, someone had. Someone young and male with a low, clipped voice that sounded eerily familiar, though Elizabeth was put off by its deep timbre. Coils of loose golden hair flew in an arch as Elizabeth's head snapped in the direction of the voice, then settled over her left shoulder like a gilded fan.

"Ciel," She breathed, and she knew it to be true.

There was a boy, about her age, sitting in the chintz arm chair beside her canopy bed, long fingers steepled and slender legs crossed. Like a child in a dream, Elizabeth rubbed her eyes, unable to quite understand the sight. "Are you...real?"

"What kind of a question is that?" Ciel's cool face took on an expression of mild annoyance, "Of course I'm real, silly girl."

Elizabeth would have cried tears of joy, had she let herself believe it. The constant isolation, the pain of her loss that never seemed to fade, and her own desperate yearnings had driven her into some mad dream, like Alice into Wonderland. But Elizabeth wasn't the same naïve girl she'd been; allowing herself to accept this illusion would only lead to more agony down the road.

_My mind is conjuring up Ciel from my memories, and perhaps mixing him with my memory of Uncle Vincent to make him older. That must be it. But he's so perfect..._

"You died," Elizabeth said, forcing the words out despite how they clogged her throat. Saying that phrase, making it real, ripped open Lizzie's heart all over again.

Ciel shook his head slowly. "I had to go away, but I'm back now. For you."

"For...me?" This could not be Ciel. Not really. The Ciel that Elizabeth had known needed to be coerced by his butler just to spend an hour with her.

"I can't stand seeing you like this, Lizzie."

"How?" Elizabeth breathed; she was such a mess, Ciel could have been referring to anything.

"Miserable. Sullen. Empty. Obsessed," Ciel seemed to be reading off some mental checklist as he rose up the arm chair and strode toward his one-time fiancee. His boots made no noise as he walked, Elizabeth noticed.

"You're crippled with loss, and you don't care whether you live or die," Ciel continued, sapphire blue eye boring into Lizzie's faded emeralds, "You have no hope; you're jaded and angry at the world. Everything good about you has shriveled up and died."

His description was so dead-on, so relentless, like he was staring into her soul and reading out its contents. Elizabeth had to choke back a sob. When Ciel placed two cool fingers under Lizzie's chin and gently tilted her face up to his, the girl became painfully aware of how pale and gaunt she'd become. A far cry from the round-faced, rosy-cheeked child she'd been, Elizabeth was wasting away.

"You're just like I was," Ciel finished, solemn but satisfied.

"Why are you saying all this, Ciel?" Elizabeth demanded in her rusty voice, "If you came back for me...why are you being so cruel?"

For the first time, Ciel's looked away, letting his fingers slide from Elizabeth's chin. "I didn't want to, Lizzie," he murmured, "I had hoped that you would heal."

"Heal?" Now Elizabeth raised her voice, catching Ciel off guard. Anger sliced through her accustomed numbness, red and sharp like a stab wound. "How could you possibly have expected me to _heal_, Ciel, from your death? You were my past, present, and future. You were my _**everything**_."

"I expected you to _fight_," Ciel snapped back, voice taking on a hard edge, "I thought you were stronger than this!"

"I had nothing to fight for," Elizabeth said, anger draining out of her as quickly as it had risen.

"I didn't want to come back," Ciel repeated, more to himself than to her, "but you left me no choice."

"You're beginning to worry me, Ciel," Elizabeth said. She didn't understand Ciel's behavior—if indeed this _was_ him, and not some illusion. But why would her own hallucination be so cryptic?

"I can help you, Lizzie," he said, and in that instant Ciel's beautiful blue eye was almost hypnotic; his voice was tender, but strangely seductive. "I'm going to help you."

"How?" Elizabeth was entranced—and curious.

"What do you want, Lizzie," Ciel asked, "what do you want more than anything else in the world?"

"More than anything else in the world..." Elizabeth didn't know whether she wanted to laugh or cry. "Ciel, I just want to _dance_ with you again."

"Is...that all?" Ciel asked, taken aback.

"Yes," Elizabeth said, a bit hurt by Ciel's reaction, "that's all."

"And that...would make you happy?" Ciel clarified.

"Yes," Elizabeth replied, and for the first time in years a smile graced her lips. It made her cheeks sting.

Ciel shook his head, bemused. "I never did understand you, Lizzie. I wish I'd tried harder."

"What is going on, Ciel?"

Instead of answering, Ciel straightened up formally and inquired, "My lady, may I have your hand?"

Confused but enamored, Elizabeth lifted her arm, and Ciel took her hand in his. Bowing, the dark-haired boy pressed his lips just past the blonde girl's knuckles. Elizabeth gasped in pleasure as a sweet shock swept over the skin under Ciel's lips. When the young man pulled away, Elizabeth stared at her hand in disbelief. A silver star now gleamed from her skin, seemingly imprinted there.

"What..."

"Look," Ciel held up his left hand to reveal a matching symbol, "They're like wedding bands. They join us together."

Now Ciel was heading for the door, and Elizabeth called out to stop him. "Wait! Where are you going?"

"The Earl of Winford is holding a grand ball tomorrow night," Ciel said, turning, "You should go out tomorrow afternoon and buy a gown. I will be at the ball, and we will dance."

"And then what?" Elizabeth wondered, now standing as well.

"And then..." Ciel seemed to consider his next words carefully before saying, "and then I will kiss you, and you will be at peace, and you will be with me forever."

"Truly?" Elizabeth asked, a warm feeling developing in her chest.

"Truly," Ciel said with that beautiful, rare, heartbreaking smile that Elizabeth so adored.

With an aching gentleness, Ciel reached up to stroke his fiancee's cheek. His fingers were cool and light and soothing like teardrops, and Lizzie let her eyes close under the touch. The next time Elizabeth opened her eyes, Ciel was gone, and real tears were streaming down her face.

_Was it...all a lie?_ Lizzie blinked and started back toward the window seat, disheartened. But in the back of her mind, a voice whispered_**tomorrow**_, and in her sleep, Elizabeth dreamt of white roses and crimson eyes.


End file.
